


the beast in my bones,

by MetaAllu



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Avi has no idea what's going on, Implied Sexual Content, Insomnia, M/M, Magnus embarrasses himself, Nightmares, Sparring, Unresolved Sexual Tension, no dogs on the moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 14:24:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14058894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetaAllu/pseuds/MetaAllu
Summary: When words fail, Magnus the bisexual disaster does the only thing he can think of.





	the beast in my bones,

“Hey, Avi?”

They’re lying next to each other on the quad, grass tickling Magnus’ ear as he turns onto his side very slowly on account of the fact that he’s definitely had too much to drink.

“Mmm?” Avi, naturally, is still stone cold sober even as he takes another hefty swig of… whatever.

“Not, like… I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but, like… Have you seen Johann’s ass?  It’s… it’s fucking amazing, dude.”

Avi blinks and turns his head so he can look at Magnus.  He manages to school his expression for about two seconds before he bursts out laughing.

“Hey!” Magnus protests.  “I’m serious!”

“You’re  _ drunk _ ,” Avi replies and Magnus sits up and moves closer, looming over Avi and jabbing him accusingly in the chest with a finger.

“You’re the worst,” he says, unable to muster even an ounce of venom.  He is hopelessly and mostly platonically besotted by Avi’s charm and quality face area.

Avi’s laughter dies down to bursting little giggle fits as he takes another swig.  He passes the bottle to Magnus.

“His ass is amazing,” he agrees, and then he grins up at Magnus, too wide on one side, and maybe just a little bit the best thing ever.  Magnus can feel his face going hot. He takes a drink and then flops back down onto his back.

“That’s what I’m sayin’, Avi.  It’s a real good butt.”

*

“Hey, Magnus?”

They’re eating lunch, which is mostly very quiet foods, because Magnus is very hungover.  It’s jello, soup, and tender meat pies. A feast, really, so of course they stole it from the Bureau cafeteria and high-tailed it out to the edges of the moon to city watch while they eat.

“What’s up, buddy?” Magnus asks, slightly less gung-ho than usual on account of aforementioned massive hangover.

“Do you, uh… remember last night?”

“Sure, I do.  We got hot dogs from Fantasy Costco, and uuuuuuh.” A beat.  “No. No, I don’t.”

“Okay, well first of all, they’re sausage buns, because there’s--”

“No dogs on the moon.  Yeah, Avi. I got it. Did I streak again?”

Avi’s expression communicates without words  _ Again? _

“No.”

“Cool.”

Magnus takes several slow, deep slurps of soup.  It’s peppery and warm, with pieces of rice and fat vegetables floating around in it, and it’s amazing.

“Right, so, second of all you asked me about Johann’s ass?”

There’s soup up Magnus’ nose.  There’s soup everywhere. He’s choking on pepper.  He’s dying. He’s dead. He dies in character.

“ _ What _ ?”

“Hey, man.  Cool it. I’m not gonna tell anyone you’re--”

“No, it’s not that.  I don’t care people know I like-- _ Look _ .” Magnus waves his arms expressively, changing the subject.  “Just… I went for Johann’s ass?”

“Pretty insistently, yeah.”

Magnus stares at him and coughs, wiping his face.

“Great.”

“If you’ve got a thing for Johann, I’d totally understand.”

“No,” Magnus says immediately.  “Well, I mean,  _ sure _ , he’s--What I mean is I didn’t ask because I--Fuck.”

Solemnly, Magnus puts his face in his hands.  Avi, having no idea what’s going on, reaches over to pat one broad shoulder anyway in what Magnus assumes is meant to be comfort.

“Istus save me,” he manages after a long bout of silence, and Avi laughs.

“From yourself?”

“Who else, Avi?”

Avi laughs louder.

*

“Hey, Avi.”

Avi, who is elbows deep in a deconstructed cannonball control panel, pauses his work.  Magnus doesn’t make many social calls. Usually if they hang out it’s because they’ve planned it or because they ran into each other out on the quad.

He finishes up what he was doing and pulls himself free of approximately two dozen wires.

“What’s up, Magnus?”

He asks, but Magnus looks like sleep-deprived hell, and it’s the middle of the night, so, you know, nightmares, probably.  They’ve made enough just-barely-not-small-talk for Avi to have some idea of what kinds of crap Magnus is dealing with, and a large part of it is insomnia and nightmares.

“You busy?”

Yes.

“Nah.”

Magnus gives him as much of a wide, warm smile as he can manage and then flexes.

“You wanna spar?”

“Do you really think getting my ass dragged all over the training mats sounds like a good time to me?”

“Uh, yes.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

It takes 5 minutes for them to walk to the training dome, and then another 10 for Avi to wash off the grime and oil and change into something a little more suitable to rolling around on the ground getting sweaty.

By the time he walks out of the changing rooms, tying his hair back, Magnus is already stretching out, looking for all the world like he’ll do just about anything to keep occupied.  Jesus, this dude needs serious help, but he’s the last guy to make the suggestion. It’s not like his life is all peaches and cream.

“You ready to go?”

Magnus cocks his head at him, posture adjusting in a way that’s like watching Carey’s mirror reflection.  For all Magnus is a bruiser, he’s clever as hell, and he’s been picking shit up from Carey at lightning speed.  Anyone who comes up against this dude in battle best be afraid, frankly. He talks about death and killing like it’s a game, and his tactile ability is something to be feared.  He can and will use whatever is in his reach. Luckily for Avi, it’s a friendly match, and as soon as Mags has got him pinned, he’ll let up.

He still feels a little nervous, even as he puts his hands on his hips and says, “Buddy, I was born ready.”

Magnus laughs at him.

Between the two of them, Avi is faster, Magnus is stronger.  They’re both human, both clever, but Magnus has more experience.  He’s been in more fights, knows what the fuck he’s doing. That doesn’t mean Avi’s useless, doesn’t mean he can’t square up--He can.  He leaves Magnus with bruises, he takes him down and wrestles him into the mats, he gets him and flushed and laughing from adrenaline--but when it comes down to it, Magnus will eventually end up one step ahead of him.

Avi can tell the moment when he’s slipped up.  He has a moment to see that gleam in tired eyes, and then he’s on the ground, gasping for air while Magnus’ body bears down on him, one arm around his throat, the other pinning him down, along with his broad belly, his firm hips, his thick thighs.

He’s gasping for air, and Magnus is panting into his ear and fuck, he’s shaking.  He’s shaking so bad. Magnus teeth slide over his earlobe, and then his tongue and Avi is on  _ fire _ .

“You wanna get outta here?” Magnus asks, barely above a whisper and Avi has to bite his bottom lip for a second before he manages a reply.

“ _ Yes _ .”


End file.
